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Tartuffe or The Hypocrite

Page 5

by Jean-Baptiste Moliere


  TARTUFFE

  Will she come soon?

  DORINE

  I think I hear her now.

  Yes, here she is herself; I'll leave you with her.

  Scene III

  ELMIRE, TARTUFFE

  TARTUFFE

  May Heaven's overflowing kindness ever

  Give you good health of body and of soul,

  And bless your days according to the wishes

  And prayers of its most humble votary!

  ELMIRE

  I'm very grateful for your pious wishes.

  But let's sit down, so we may talk at ease.

  Tartuffe, after sitting down

  And how are you recovered from your illness?

  Elmire, sitting down also

  Quite well; the fever soon let go its hold.

  TARTUFFE

  My prayers, I fear, have not sufficient merit

  To have drawn down this favour from on high;

  But each entreaty that I made to Heaven

  Had for its object your recovery.

  ELMIRE

  You're too solicitous on my behalf.

  TARTUFFE

  We could not cherish your dear health too much;

  I would have given mine, to help restore it.

  ELMIRE

  That's pushing Christian charity too far;

  I owe you many thanks for so much kindness.

  TARTUFFE

  I do far less for you than you deserve.

  ELMIRE

  There is a matter that I wished to speak of

  In private; I am glad there's no one here

  To listen.

  TARTUFFE

  Madam, I am overjoyed.

  'T is sweet to find myself alone with you.

  This is an opportunity I've asked

  Of Heaven, many a time; till now, in vain.

  ELMIRE

  All that I wish, is just a word from you,

  Quite frank and open, hiding nothing from me.

  (Damis, without their seeing him, opens the closet door half way.)

  TARTUFFE

  I too could wish, as Heaven's especial favour,

  To lay my soul quite open to your eyes,

  And swear to you, the trouble that I made

  About those visits which your charms attract,

  Does not result from any hatred toward you,

  But rather from a passionate devotion,

  And purest motives…

  ELIMIRE

  That is how I take it,

  I think 'T is my salvation that concerns you.

  TARTUFFE, pressing her finger tips

  Madam, 'T is so; and such is my devotion…

  ELMIRE

  Ouch! but you squeeze too hard.

  TARTUFFE

  Excess of zeal.

  In no way could I ever mean to hurt you,

  And I'd as soon…

  (He puts his hand on her knee.)

  ELMIRE

  What's your hand doing there?

  TARTUFFE

  Feeling your gown; the stuff is very soft.

  ELMIRE

  Let be, I beg you; I am very ticklish.

  (She moves her chair away, and Tartuffe brings his nearer.)

  TARTUFFE, handling the lace yoke of Elmire's dress

  Dear me, how wonderful in workmanship

  This lace is! They do marvels, nowadays;

  Things of all kinds were never better made.

  ELMIRE

  Yes, very true. But let us come to business.

  They say my husband means to break his word,

  And marry Mariane to you. Is 't so?

  TARTUFFE

  He did hint some such thing; but truly, madam,

  That's not the happiness I'm yearning after;

  I see elsewhere the sweet compelling charms

  Of such a joy as fills my every wish.

  ELMIRE

  You mean you cannot love terrestrial things.

  TARTUFFE

  The heart within my bosom is not stone.

  ELMIRE

  I well believe your sighs all tend to Heaven,

  And nothing here below can stay your thoughts.

  TARTUFFE

  Love for the beauty of eternal things

  Cannot destroy our love for earthly beauty;

  Our mortal senses well may be entranced

  By perfect works that Heaven has fashioned here.

  Its charms reflected shine in such as you,

  And in yourself, its rarest miracles;

  It has displayed such marvels in your face,

  That eyes are dazed, and hearts are rapt away;

  I could not look on you, the perfect creature,

  Without admiring Nature's great Creator,

  And feeling all my heart inflamed with love

  For you, His fairest image of Himself.

  At first I trembled lest this secret love

  Might be the Evil Spirit's artful snare;

  I even schooled my heart to flee your beauty,

  Thinking it was a bar to my salvation.

  But soon, enlightened, O all lovely one,

  I saw how this my passion may be blameless,

  How I may make it fit with modesty,

  And thus completely yield my heart to it.

  'T is, I must own, a great presumption in me

  To dare make you the offer of my heart;

  My love hopes all things from your perfect goodness,

  And nothing from my own poor weak endeavour.

  You are my hope, my stay, my peace of heart;

  On you depends my torment or my bliss;

  And by your doom of judgment, I shall be

  Blest, if you will; or damned, by your decree.

  ELMIRE

  Your declaration's turned most gallantly;

  But truly, it is just a bit surprising.

  You should have better armed your heart, methinks,

  And taken thought somewhat on such a matter.

  A pious man like you, known everywhere…

  TARTUFFE

  Though pious, I am none the less a man;

  And when a man beholds your heavenly charms,

  The heart surrenders, and can think no more.

  I know such words seem strange, coming from me;

  But, madam, I'm no angel, after all;

  If you condemn my frankly made avowal

  You only have your charming self to blame.

  Soon as I saw your more than human beauty,

  You were thenceforth the sovereign of my soul;

  Sweetness ineffable was in your eyes,

  That took by storm my still resisting heart,

  And conquered everything, fasts, prayers, and tears,

  And turned my worship wholly to yourself.

  My looks, my sighs, have spoke a thousand times;

  Now, to express it all, my voice must speak.

  If but you will look down with gracious favour

  Upon the sorrows of your worthless slave,

  If in your goodness you will give me comfort

  And condescend unto my nothingness,

  I'll ever pay you, sweet miracle,

  An unexampled worship and devotion.

  Then too, with me your honour runs no risk;

  With me you need not fear a public scandal.

  These court gallants, that women are so fond of,

  Are boastful of their acts, and vain in speech;

  They always brag in public of their progress;

  Soon as a favour's granted, they'll divulge it;

  Their tattling tongues, if you but trust to them,

  Will foul the altar where their hearts have worshipped.

  But men like me are so discreet in love,

  That you may trust their lasting secrecy.

  The care we take to guard our own good name

  May fully guarantee the one we love;

  So you may find, with hearts like ours sincere,

  Love withou
t scandal, pleasure without fear.

  ELMIRE

  I've heard you through—your speech is clear, at least.

  But don't you fear that I may take a fancy

  To tell my husband of your gallant passion,

  And that a prompt report of this affair

  May somewhat change the friendship which he bears you?

  TARTUFFE

  I know that you're too good and generous,

  That you will pardon my temerity,

  Excuse, upon the score of human frailty,

  The violence of passion that offends you,

  And not forget, when you consult your mirror,

  That I'm not blind, and man is made of flesh.

  ELMIRE

  Some women might do otherwise, perhaps,

  But I am willing to employ discretion,

  And not repeat the matter to my husband;

  But in return, I'll ask one thing of you:

  That you urge forward, frankly and sincerely,

  The marriage of Valère to Mariane;

  That you give up the unjust influence

  By which you hope to win another's rights;

  And…

  Scene IV

  ELMIRE, DAMIS, TARTUFFE

  Damis, coming out of the closet-room where he had been hiding

  No, I say! This thing must be made public.

  I was just there, and overheard it all;

  And Heaven's goodness must have brought me there

  On purpose to confound this scoundrel's pride

  And grant me means to take a signal vengeance

  On his hypocrisy and arrogance,

  And undeceive my father, showing up

  The rascal caught at making love to you.

  ELMIRE

  No, no; it is enough if he reforms,

  Endeavouring to deserve the favour shown him.

  And since I've promised, do not you belie me.

  'T is not my way to make a public scandal;

  An honest wife will scorn to heed such follies,

  And never fret her husband's ears with them.

  Damis

  You've reasons of your own for acting thus;

  And I have mine for doing otherwise.

  To spare him now would be a mockery;

  His bigot's pride has triumphed all too long

  Over my righteous anger, and has caused

  Far too much trouble in our family.

  The rascal all too long has ruled my father,

  And crossed my sister's love, and mine as well.

  The traitor now must be unmasked before him;

  And Providence has given me means to do it.

  To Heaven I owe the opportunity,

  And if I did not use it now I have it,

  I should deserve to lose it once for all.

  ELIMIRE

  Damis…

  DAMIS

  No, by your leave; I'll not be counselled.

  I'm overjoyed. You need n't try to tell me

  I must give up the pleasure of revenge.

  I'll make an end of this affair at once;

  And, to content me, here's my father now.

  Scene V

  ORGON, ELMIRE, DAMIS, TARTUFFE

  DAMIS

  Father, we've news to welcome your arrival,

  That's altogether novel, and surprising.

  You are well paid for your caressing care,

  And this fine gentleman rewards your love

  Most handsomely, with zeal that seeks no less

  Than your dishonour, as has now been proven.

  I've just surprised him making to your wife

  The shameful offer of a guilty love.

  She, somewhat over gentle and discreet,

  Insisted that the thing should be concealed;

  But I will not condone such shamelessness,

  Nor so far wrong you as to keep it secret.

  ELMIRE

  Yes, I believe a wife should never trouble

  Her husband's peace of mind with such vain gossip;

  A woman's honour does not hang on telling;

  It is enough if she defend herself;

  Or so I think; Damis, you'd not have spoken,

  If you would but have heeded my advice.

  Scene VI

  ORGON, DAMIS, TARTUFFE

  ORGON

  Just Heaven! Can what I hear be credited?

  TARTUFFE

  Yes, brother, I am wicked, I am guilty,

  A miserable sinner, steeped in evil,

  The greatest criminal that ever lived.

  Each moment of my life is stained with soilures;

  And all is but a mass of crime and filth;

  Heaven, for my punishment, I see it plainly,

  Would mortify me now. Whatever wrong

  They find to charge me with, I'll not deny it

  But guard against the pride of self-defence.

  Believe their stories, arm your wrath against me,

  And drive me like a villain from your house;

  I cannot have so great a share of shame

  But what I have deserved a greater still.

  ORGON, to his son

  You miscreant, can you dare, with such a falsehood,

  To try to stain the whiteness of his virtue?

  DAMIS

  What! The feigned meekness of this hypocrite

  Makes you discredit…

  ORGON

  Silence, cursèd plague!

  TARTUFFE

  Ah! Let him speak; you chide him wrongfully;

  You'd do far better to believe his tales.

  Why favour me so much in such a matter?

  How can you know of what I'm capable?

  And should you trust my outward semblance, brother,

  Or judge therefrom that I'm the better man?

  No, no; you let appearances deceive you;

  I'm anything but what I'm thought to be,

  Alas! and though all men believe me godly,

  The simple truth is, I'm a worthless creature.

  (To Damis)

  Yes, my dear son, say on, and call me traitor,

  Abandoned scoundrel, thief, and murderer;

  Heap on me names yet more detestable,

  And I shall not gainsay you; I've deserved them;

  I'll bear this ignominy on my knees,

  To expiate in shame the crimes I've done.

  ORGON, to Tartuffe

  Ah, brother, 't is too much!

  (To his son)

  You'll not relent,

  You blackguard?

  DAMIS

  What! His talk can so deceive you…

  ORGON

  Silence, you scoundrel!

  (To Tartuffe)

  Brother, rise, I beg you.

  (To his son)

  Infamous villain!

  DAMIS

  Can he…

  ORGON

  Silence!

  DAMIS

  What…

  ORGON

  Another word, I'll break your every bone.

  TARTUFFE

  Brother, in God's name, don't be angry with him!

  I'd rather bear myself the bitterest torture

  Than have him get a scratch on my account.

  ORGON, to his son

  Ungrateful monster!

  TARTUFFE

  Stop. Upon my knees

  I beg you pardon him…

  Orgon, throwing himself on his knees too, and embracing Tartuffe

  Alas! How can you?

  (To his son)

  Villain! Behold his goodness!

  DAMIS

  So…

  ORGON

  Be still,

  DAMIS

  What! I…

  ORGON

  Be still, I say. I know your motives

  For this attack. You hate him, all of you;

  Wife, children, servants, all let loose upon him,

  You have recourse to every shameful trick

  To driv
e this godly man out of my house;

  The more you strive to rid yourselves of him,

  The more I'll strive to make him stay with me;

  I'll have him straightway married to my daughter,

  Just to confound the pride of all of you.

  DAMIS

  What! Will you force her to accept his hand?

  ORGON

  Yes, and this very evening, to enrage you,

  Young rascal! Ah! I'll brave you all, and show you

  That I'm the master, and must be obeyed.

  Now, down upon your knees this instant, rogue,

  And take back what you said, and ask his pardon.

  DAMIS

  Who? I? Ask pardon of that cheating scoundrel…?

  ORGON

  Do you resist, you beggar, and insult him?

  A cudgel, here! a cudgel!

  (To Tartuffe)

  Don't restrain me.

  (To his son)

  Off with you! Leave my house this instant, sirrah,

  And never dare set foot in it again.

  DAMIS

  Yes, I will leave your house, but…

  ORGON

  Leave it quickly.

  You reprobate, I disinherit you,

  And give you, too, my curse into the bargain.

  Scene VII

  ORGON, TARTUFFE

  ORGON

  What! So insult a saintly man of God!

  TARTUFFE

  Heaven, forgive him all the pain he gives me!1

  (To Orgon)

  Could you but know with what distress I see

  Them try to vilify me to my brother!

  ORGON

  Ah!

  TARTUFFE

  The mere thought of such ingratitude

  Makes my soul suffer torture, bitterly…

  My horror at it…Ah! my heart's so full

  I cannot speak…I think I'll die of it.

  Orgon, in tears, running to the door through which he drove away his son

  Scoundrel! I wish I'd never let you go,

  But slain you on the spot with my own hand.

  Heaven, forgive him even as I forgive him!

  Voltaire gives still another reading:

  Heaven, forgive me even as I forgive him!

  (To Tartuffe)

  Brother, compose yourself, and don't be angry.

  TARTUFFE

  Nay, brother, let us end these painful quarrels.

  I see what troublous times I bring upon you,

  And think 'T is needful that I leave this house.

  ORGON

  What! You can't mean it?

  TARTUFFE

  Yes, they hate me here,

  And try, I find, to make you doubt my faith.

  ORGON

  What of it? Do you find I listen to them?

  TARTUFFE

  No doubt they won't stop there. These same reports

  You now reject, may some day win a hearing.

  ORGON

  No, brother, never.

 

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